


In Troubled Times

by TheSpasticFantastic



Series: A Tale of Two Cities [10]
Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Gen, Modern AU, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, TW: Difficult Birth, TW: NICU Baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpasticFantastic/pseuds/TheSpasticFantastic
Summary: Elsa's son is born but winds up in the NICU.
Relationships: Agnarr/Iduna (Disney), Elsa/Alarik
Series: A Tale of Two Cities [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815652
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Iduna and Agnarr's PoV

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This was written for @couragedontdesertme as part of a fic swap. Thank you for your patience! I know I owe you another one. This was also a very SPECIFIC request, so blame her for the heart break. if you’re not familiar with Shards, Little Dag will ultimately grow up into Richard Madden (from Cinderella, not GoT), so someday there will be a happy ending. Thank you @fericita-s for murdering my idioms and trying to make Agnarr less of a log. I’m still keeping him a log XD And thank you to @patricia-von-arundel for creating Alarik, Dag, Jenny and Neta.

Iduna tried to be the optimist in their family.

Elsa had always taken after Agnarr, prone to catastrophizing and over thinking every blessed detail in private. Even if they were both more than capable of radiating a calm persona in their professional spheres, those who knew and loved them intimately knew better than to accept their placid and patient expressions. Both father and daughter were too inclined to ruminations and planning for every disaster and expecting the worst from any given situation.

Anna – now, Anna could have been named the Family Queen of Optimism. Anna, still in her mid-thirties, had energy and youth and the cartilage required to bounce around in excited glee. But even Anna had her limitations. The private tragedies that caused her to backslide into the dark recesses of her mind where she could be just as self-castigating as her father or her elder sister. And this was one of them.

If Iduna was being honest with herself, she knew she had them as well.

But she was trying, here and now, to focus on the good.

The best thing was that her grandson was still alive.

That was everything.

He was alive with the assistance of tubes that sprouted from his skin and were fastened into place with an alarming amount of tape, monitors and leads to track his heart and lungs, a small face mask, a seemingly endless cacophony of beeps and whirs and buzzes from screens and pumps, but he was alive.

Iduna stared down helplessly at the baby boy, her only grandson, and silently thanked God again that Elsa had been visiting when it happened. Alarik had been traveling to Chicago for an academic conference. If Elsa had been alone with Jenny in New York when the pain had started . . .

She shook her head. Elsa hadn’t been in New York. She had been in her childhood bedroom. When the pain came and her belly went rigid, the best pediatric hospital in the world was barely fifteen minutes from their front step. Which is exactly where Dag had been whisked away to once the emergency C-section had been performed. Alarik had been asleep when his son was born. Asleep and eight hundred miles away. And Elsa had been alone.

Agnarr had nearly lost his head when they had refused to let him back to see her. That didn’t surprise her. He was a professor in the humanities. A historian. Whereas, she had applied her botanical expertise to pharmaceutical research and was at least familiar with the coded language of medical professionals. So she had restrained him gently by the arm, thanked her lucky stars that Jenny was safely off with Anna and Kristoff, and tried not to panic because it was very clear to her that the reason they were not being permitted to see her wasn’t out of malice, but mercy. Something had gone wrong. With their daughter and their grandson.

There had been any number of large words and phrases over the next few days. Disseminated intravascular coagulation. Hypoperfusion of the lungs leading to failure to achieve functional residual capacity secondary to perinatal asphyxia. Sustained bradycardia. Surfactant deficiency disease.

She wiped her eyes. He was so tiny. So tiny. Tiny in a way that neither Jenny or Neta ever were. Little Dag was only thirty-one weeks. And, like his mother, he was alone. Oh, the nurses were wonderful and the doctors all seemed very knowledgeable, they all adored the staff and the staff adored little Dag. And yes, there was always at least one family member present, but Elsa had yet to see her son in person. Iduna had learned from the nurses in the postpartum unit how to manage the hospital-grade breast pump to help Elsa establish her supply. They were able to carry her breastmilk directly to Dag for feedings or to store it for a later time. So far, they hadn’t needed to use donor breast milk. Elsa took comfort in that. Something she could do for her son. And Iduna, Alarik and Agnarr had all taken as many photos and quick video clips of Dag as they could store on their smart phones and shown them to her when they bounced between hospitals.

Still. There was no substitute for one’s own mother. And Elsa had cried on her shoulder several times about how she had failed her baby boy. That had hurt Iduna’s heart to hear those words from her daughter’s mouth. She hadn’t said anything, merely hugged her, let her cry, and given Agnarr a menacing glare over Elsa’s shoulder when she saw her husband open his mouth to try and rationalize with his eldest girl. She loved the man, but he had never learned that sometimes words were nothing. She had sent him back to Anna’s to distract Jenny.

Jenny.

Jenny who didn’t entirely understand why Mommy wasn’t back with the baby yet. Why they couldn’t go back to their apartment in New York. Why Daddy was crying even when he smiled and called her “Princess”. But she was energetic and easily distracted by Grandpa, Aunt Anna, Uncle Kristoff and Neta. Neta had especially been a blessing during these times. She had been the one to recommend the trip to the zoo. The art museum to see the tea house and the armor collection. The history museum with the mummies. And Jenny had – well, not forgotten about her mother and brother, but been happy to be the center of her family’s attention in exciting places.

“How is he doing?” Agnarr asked softly as he came up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she leaned in against his chest. There was stubble on his face and circles under his eyes. She placed her hands over his.

“His vitals have been good today. He’s growing.”

“I thought he looked a little chubbier.”

Iduna smiled. “Well, his suck-swallow reflex is improving. It’s getting easier for him to feed.” She paused. “He might not need the incubator much longer. The more he grows . . .they say it’s getting easier for him to keep himself warm.”

“Good,” he mumbled and kissed her on the temple. “Alarik said that the tests for . . .” He trailed off and Iduna felt him swallow. “His, you know, his brain.” He swallowed again. She turned to face him and pull him into a hug as his voice broke.

“It’s still too early to tell.”

“Yes.”

“If there will be any long-term impairment.”

“Yes.” They stood, holding one another, in a silence broken only by his occasional sniffle. Finally, he cleared his throat with a cough and shrugged. “Of course, it could have been much worse,” He said gruffly. “For Elsa, too.”

“I just keep thinking of how thankful I am that she was here. And not in New York.”

“Exactly.”

“How is Alarik doing?”

“He’s excited,” Agnarr sighed and rubbed his face. “He’s excited she’s getting discharged.”

“You’re not?” Iduna frowned. “It’s been a week. Elsa wants to see her son, Agnarr. She wants to see Dag.”

“I know she does. I’m just worried it’s going to be hard on her to see him like this. I know we’ve shown her pictures, but . . .”

She waited until she knew he wasn’t going to continue speaking unless prompted. “But?”

“It’s hard.” He spoke tersely. Fists clenched. “It’s hard to see your child suffer. It’s hard enough when they’re grown. I can’t imagine what it’s like for the two of them right now.” There was silence. “Dag is so little, Iduna.”

“I know, dear.” She hugged him again.

“Alarik has been steady. Strong. He’s barely left her side except to check on Jenny or to come here.” Dag twitched in his sleep, his tiny mouth moving as though he were feeding.

“He has.” She crossed her arms and hugged herself as Agnarr to a step towards the isolette and gently placed a single finger against the plastic. “I hope this will make it easier for him. For her. For the both of them. Her nurse said she’d be discharged by three o’clock. Elsa will come right over.”

“She will, but that’s what worries me. She’s still recovering from the surgery and the transfusions. She’s going to have to go home at some point. To sleep. To shower. To eat. To see Jenny. And she’s going to hate herself for it. She’s already tearing herself up about the birth and about not being able to see Jenny. She’s so upset she stayed on her medications, even though the doctors keep telling her it had nothing to do with what happened.” Dag opened his eyes and Agnarr smiled down at him. Iduna joined him, smiling down at their grandson.

“Hello, little one. How are you today?” She chuckled as he flailed a tiny fist, yawned, and closed his eyes once more. “Excited to see Mama? I know you’ve missed her. She misses you too!”

“Who do you think he looks like more?” Agnarr wondered. “It’s a bit hard to tell.”

She bit her lip and thought for a moment. “I think I see a little of my father in him.”

“Oh no. The forehead. You’re right.”

“Hush you!” She gently elbowed him. “My father had a very handsome forehead. Let’s just be glad he doesn’t have your nose.” He laughed at that and draped an arm around her shoulders. They watched Dag for a few minutes as he drifted back to sleep.

“Will Anna be coming? For the discharge, I mean?”

“No,” she said. “Kristoff will be by to pick up Elsa’s things. It’s still too hard for her to be back at the hospital. We talked about it. She feels terrible, but it’s the right thing to do. Elsa even told her as much on the phone. Practically forbade her from coming. Things are going to be difficult for the both of them for a while.”

“I’m sure Alarik will make sure Elsa is taking her pills.”

“Pharmacology has its limits, dear.”

“I suppose you would know,” he sighed. “But I mean that he’ll take care of her.”

“Oh, yes, of course he will.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Runardsund?” She turned at the sound of the nurse’s voice. “Dag’s parents have just arrived. They’re checking in. I’m so sorry, but I’ll have to ask you both to step out.”

“Right,” Agnarr said. “The visitor limit.”

“I’m sorry about the policy.”

“No, no.” Iduna waved a hand. “We understand. It’s best for the baby. His immune system isn’t fully formed. And, you know, security concerns.” She bowed her head towards Dag. “Goodbye for now, little now. Be good to your Mama.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Dag,” Agnarr promised. They walked down the hall and he held the heavy security door for her.

“Mom! Dad!” Elsa called from the check in. She was still in a wheelchair and looked exhausted. Alarik already had a colorful band on his wrist that identified him as a parent. Iduna could see the unit clerk preparing one for Elsa. “You aren’t staying?”

“Only two visitors at a time, darling,” Iduna said as she stooped to give her daughter a hug. “You enjoy your time with Dag. He’s cute as a button.” Agnarr was giving Alarik a hug as well. She thought they both looked as though they needed less coffee and more sleep. She didn’t imagine that either of them would get that for some time.

“It’s for the best, Elsa,” Agnarr said and went to hug her as well. “His immune system is still weak. Besides, he’ll want to see you and Alarik the most. We’ll go to Anna’s and take Jenny and Neta out for a treat.” Iduna gave Alarik a hug.

“Will the nurse be recording?”

“I asked her to,” he replied. He looked as though he had aged in the past week.

“I’ll text you some video of Jenny saying hello.”

“Thank you, that would be wonderful.”

Iduna watched as the clerk snapped the parent identification band onto Elsa’s wrist. She and Alarik said a brief, distant goodbye and then he wheeled her beyond the security doors which shut and locked behind them.


	2. Alarik's PoV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @couragedontdesertme per her request for our ongoing fic swap. Thank you to @patricia-von-arundel for creating Alarik, Dag and Jenny. And thank you to my ever accommodating beta-reader @fericita-s and her awesome suggestions!

“Congratulations, Alarik!”

“Congratulations!”

“Well-done, Dr. Geatland!”

“Great presentation!”

Alarik grinned and accepted the thanks of his colleagues and tried to wipe his clammy hands on his pants. He felt like he could breathe for the first time in a month. It had been a huge honor to have his research accepted for presentation at the Genetics Society of America’s annual conference, but getting the materials prepared and talking in front of hundreds had been daunting. His phone buzzed in his pocket as he made his way to the next lecture he had signed up to attend.

_How did it go?_

He smiled. Elsa was already checking in. He thumbed the screen as he navigated through the crowded hotel conference room.

“Did it go well?” He could barely make out his wife’s words over the din of the other conference-attendees on his end and Jenny’s screaming on hers, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“It did! Harker from UCLA asked an asinine question to make himself look good, but other than that I think it went well!”

“I’m so glad!” She laughed. “I knew you’d be great!”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I sat in on one of Dad’s lectures today while Anna and Mom took Jenny to the movies. I even got some work done.”

“And how’s our little man?”

“He’s fine. Kicking.”

“I can’t wait to see you in two days!”

“What?”

“Two days! Can’t wait to see you!”

“I’m having trouble hearing you-“

The phone cut dead. He groaned as he glanced at the bars. Reception had been spotty the entire week. Alarik made his way to the next lecture session and dropped into his seat, checking the bars again. He quickly tapped out a message.

_Sorry. Call dropped. Will call before dinner._

He shut his phone off and turned his attention to the speaker. The hour flew by. He ran into a few old friends from his grad school days who invited him to join them for dinner. _How can you be in Chicago without getting Chicago Style Pizza?_ Personally, Alarik failed to see the appeal over New York style pizza, but he thought it would be fun to catch up. Before he left the hotel, he tried to call Elsa.

“Daddy?”

“Jenny?” Oh no. It was never good when she got the phone. Last time it had ended up in a toilet.

“Hi Daddy!”

“Hi Princess! How are you?”

“I’m gooooood. How are you?”

“I’m good. Is your mother there?”

“Mommy’s sleeping.”

“Is your grandmother there?”

Jenny giggled. “Yes!”

“Can you put her on?”

“No!” 

“Jenny, dear, phone please.” Alarik smiled as he heard Iduna’s voice in the background. The phone wasn’t unguarded, thank God. No toilet phone today. “Hi, Alarik. Elsa said your talk went well. Congratulations!”

“Thank you – is Elsa alright?”

“She just felt a little worn out. She’s taking a nap. Do you want me to wake her up?”

“No, no,” he said quickly. “I’ll call again tomorrow. I was about to go to dinner with some friends and wanted to say goodnight.”

“Alright, well, have a good time.”

He had a very good time. And probably one too many even though he had only had two beers and half a pizza. He was getting older. It was probably all that sodium. He groaned as his phone rang again, wishing he had put the damned thing on vibrate. There was no possible way it could be time to rise for his eight am roundtable discussion. He blinked blearily in the dark and looked at the clock. It was only two. He frowned and groped for the phone.

“Agnarr?” He muttered. What the hell could his father-in-law possibly want at this hour – his stomach dropped. He slammed the screen with his thumb. “Agnarr?”

“Alarik.” The voice on the other end was unusually strained. Alarik often marveled at the man’s ability to remain unflappable through almost any situation. 

“Is . . .is everything alright?”

“Wouldn’t be calling you at two in the morning if it was, son,” he spoke gruffly. Alarik felt his blood run cold. Agnarr had never called him _son_ before. Not even when Jenny was born. Or when he married Elsa.

“Ok.”

“Jenny is fine.”

“Ok.”

“Elsa is alive.”

“Ok.”

“So is the baby.”

“Ok.” His voice broke.

“But the baby came early. He’s at the Children’s Hospital in the NICU.”

“He’s . . .” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

There was a long pause.

“Elsa.” He heard Agnarr choke on her name. Alarik’s eyes burned and he furiously rubbed his face. “She needed surgery. She needs another one.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know. They haven’t told us. They only let Iduna back. And just a minute ago.”

More silence.

“She didn’t want me to call. Until – until we knew more. But I thought you should know.”

“Yes. Yes, of course.” He forced the words out. “Thank you.”

“I know you’ll be flying to New York tomorrow night-“

“I’ll be on the next flight I can get to Philadelphia.”

There was a short pause. “Good man.”

“I’m going to pack.”

“Good man.”

“Call me when you know more?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.” He hung up without waiting for a reply and slapped the light switch. The room filled with blinding light. He sat for a moment, staring emptily at the few outfits he had brought that were strewn about the small room. Then he stood and began throwing his clothes into the tiny suitcase.


	3. Jenny's PoV:  The Wish Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For @couragedontdesertme for our fic swap. Thank you @patricia-von-arundel for creating Alarik, Dag and Jenny. And thank you so much @fericita-s for beta-reading this and helping me make it age-realistic!

Jenny thought it had been fun at first. But waking up to Mama and Grandma and Grandpa gone had been a little scary, even with Aunt Anna making her chocolate chip pancakes and taking her on a walk to the park. And then she had got to go have a special sleepover with Neta and Uncle Kristoff. When she woke up, to her delight, she had found Papa sleeping on the comfy sofa in the living room and bounced on him. He had given her a big hug and then she got chocolate chip pancakes for a second breakfast in a row!

But then Papa was gone again. And Mama wasn’t back.

And when Jenny asked where she was, Uncle Kristoff had been quiet even for him before telling her that Mama was with the doctors getting a long checkup. She was starting to miss her room at home. Her city. She missed pressing her ear to the wall and hearing Mr. Colley listening to his old movies or pressing her ear to the other wall and listening to Ms. Gonzalez playing her guitar. She missed her stuffed animals. Grandpa came to walk her back to his and Grandma’s house.

“You’re going to visit with us a little longer,” he said, holding her hand as they walked along the shady street. She frowned. He saw her face. “Should we stop for ice cream?”

That night, Papa sat down with her, along with Grandma and Grandpa, to tell her that Mama was sick. Mama was sick, but she’s getting better. Once she was feeling better, Jenny could do and see her at the hospital. No, not at a scary hospital. The one near where Grandma and Grandpa worked. She had walked by it before, remember? With the halal food truck? By the museum with the mummies?

She snuggled against Papa. 

He told her that she also had a new little brother. Dag. Papa’s voice sounded funny and he hugged her too tightly. 

“Do you want me to-“ Grandma said.

“Please.”

“Dag is also sick, darling. So he’s with the doctors and nurses. And they’re helping him get better.”

Jenny wasn’t particularly interested in Dag, who had a stupid name anyway, but kept her mouth shut. Calling things “stupid” was a good way to not get more ice cream. So she stayed in Aunt Anna’s old room which was still far too pink for her liking. Papa brought Frog and Chicken when he went home to get some things and he also brought her favorite jammies.

Then the next day she was put on the phone camera to see Mama.

Who looked like Mama, but very pale. Very, very pale. There were tubes and straws and things running in and out of her arms and wrists. And when she spoke, it was and it wasn’t her voice.

After that, Uncle Kristoff and Neta took her to the museum to see what knights wore in battle – a suit of armor. Which was funny because Grandpa wore a suit to work and it wasn’t made of metal. And it definitely didn’t have any arrow holes in it like this one did. It was really cool. Then one day, after Aunt Anna took her and Neta to the library, she came back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house and there was Mama.

“I missed you so much.” Mama whispered and hugged her tightly. Jenny didn’t say anything and just hugged her back. But Mama’s skin was ice cold and the bruises and bandages scared her. 

Mama and Papa were with her as often as they were not. They reassured her that they loved her, but that little Dag needed them too. She was a big girl, did she understand? Jenny understood that little Dag was the reason she had been given two desserts every day for over a week. And probably the reason that she kept getting taken to her favorite places. He was like a wish baby.

“I think it would make Dag happy if I went to the zoo.” She told Aunt Anna and Neta. The very next day she was at the zoo, cheerfully punching one of the big balloons on a rubber band and climbing so high in the honeycomb ladders that Uncle Kristoff had to reach up and get her down. She would always come back from her latest adventure with a new shirt or magnet or toy that she could proudly display to whichever parent was spending the night with her. She would tell them all about her day and they would tell her all about the little brother she had yet to meet, but who was growing bigger every day and could wait to meet her.

Finally, it was time, Papa told her. Dag was coming home. Home to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. And then they were going home. To their real home. Home - their apartment in New York with her green walls and building blocks and all of her stuffed animals, not just Frog and Chicken.

Grandpa hoisted her up onto his hip as Mama and Papa pulled the stroller through the door. She couldn’t see anything beyond the black cover that had shielded the baby from the sun or the pile of blankets bunched up at the bottom.

“Come here, Eldig,” Papa said gently, beckoning her with his hand. Grandpa carried her over as Mama pushed the cover back. She frowned at his little scrunched face. He didn’t look special. Just squishy. But Mama was smiling down at him and so was Papa. She reached for him and he took her into his arms, leaning low so she was only inches away. Jenny wrinkled her nose.

“He smells like poop!”

“Babies do that sometimes, darling,” Grandma said soothingly as Papa laughed. 

Mama reached under the stroller and sat back up.

“Here,” she said and held out a stuffed fox in a red and blue shirt. “Dag brought you a present.” Jenny grinned and took it, inspecting its black eyes closely.

“Ok. He can stay.”


End file.
